The setup was textbook. A senior colleague mentioned that the son of a friend was fresh out of university and looking for his first marketing job. Could I take a look at the CV. Could I see him for a chat.
I walked into the interview room with a sentence pre-loaded in my head, in capital letters, in red. NEPOTISM IS ALIVE AND WELL IN PROFESSIONAL SERVICES. I had decided, before he had said a word, what kind of conversation we were about to have. I was going to be polite, I was going to ask the questions, and I was going to write a courteous “no thanks” email the same afternoon.
He was brilliant.
What he actually was
He was sharp, well-prepared, asked the right questions about the business, and had clearly read the company website more thoroughly than half the people who were already working for me. He had also done something interesting at university that wasn’t on the CV, and that was the part of the conversation that decided it for me. He had studied politics, with a marketing module on the side. Internally I was rolling my eyes. I asked why, expecting something bland, and he said: “You can’t have a political ideology that people can get behind unless it’s been marketed well.”
That sentence told me everything I needed to know about how he would talk to a client a year from now.
I hired him. He was excellent. I hired him again later, into a more senior role, because I had moved company and the option came up.
When I hear his name now in industry gossip, attached to whatever good thing he is doing next, I get a feeling I can only describe as proud mum. It’s a slightly embarrassing thing to write but it’s the accurate word.
The bias I had brought into the room
What I had brought into that first interview wasn’t a hiring philosophy. It was a defensive crouch. I had decided that the route by which his CV reached my desk had told me everything I needed to know about the candidate. It hadn’t. All it had told me was the route. The candidate was a separate question.
The lazy version of bias in hiring goes the other way: you give preferential treatment to the friend-of-a-friend because it’s easier to say yes than to think harder. The version I’d brought in was the opposite and equally lazy. I’d decided to say no by default because the route felt uncomfortable, and I’d let that override the actual evidence in front of me. Both versions are the same mistake wearing different shoes. Both are the recruiter doing less work than the role requires.
The fix is not particularly noble. It is just to leave the assumptions at the door of the interview room and judge what walks in. If the candidate is bad, the conversation will tell you. If the candidate is great, the conversation will also tell you. The route they arrived by is, in the interview, irrelevant. It is interview-room admin, not interview-room substance.
I owe that hire, though he doesn’t know it, for being the person who taught me to leave my assumptions outside. He has gone on to be very good. I’d like to think I’ve gone on to be better at the bit of my job that touches his.
Sometimes the nepotism call is the wrong call. Sometimes it is the right one. The only honest way to know is to talk to the person and find out.